"I've found the secret of your charm," I said, Expounding with complacency my guess. Alas! the charm, even as I named it, fled, For all its secret was unconsciousness. THE UNPARDONABLE SIN. I reckon that ye never knew, That dandy slugger, Tom Carew, He had a touch as light an' free As that of any honey-bee; But where it lit there wasn't much To jestify another touch. O, what a Sunday-school it was To watch him puttin' up his paws An' roominate upon their heft-- Particular his holy left! Tom was my style--that's all I say; Some others may be equal gay. What's come of him? Dunno, I'm sure-- He's dead--which make his fate obscure. I only started in to clear One vital p'int in his career, Which is to say--afore he died He soiled his erming mighty snide. Ye see he took to politics And learnt them statesmen-fellers' tricks; Pulled wires, wore stovepipe hats, used scent, Just like he was the President; Went to the Legislator; spoke Right out agin the British yoke-- But that was right. He let his hair Grow long to qualify for Mayor, An' once or twice he poked his snoot In Congress like a low galoot! It had to come--no gent can hope To wrastle God agin the rope. Tom went from bad to wuss. Being dead, I s'pose it oughtn't to be said, For sech inikities as flow From politics ain't fit to know; But, if you think it's actin' white To tell it--Thomas throwed a fight! INDUSTRIAL DISCONTENT. As time rolled on the whole world came to be A desolation and a darksome curse; And some one said: "The changes that you see In the fair frame of things, from bad to worse, Are wrought by strikes. The sun withdrew his glimmer Because the moon assisted with her shimmer. "Then, when poor Luna, straining very hard, Doubled her light to serve a darkling world, He called her 'scab,' and meanly would retard Her rising: and at last the villain hurled A heavy beam which knocked her o'er the Lion Into the nebula of great O'Ryan. "The planets all had struck some time before, Demanding what they said were equal rights: Some pointing out that others had far more That a fair dividend of satellites. So all went out--though those the best provided, If they had dared, would rather have abided. "The stars struck too--I think it was because The comets had more liberty than they, And were not bound by any hampering laws, While _they_ were fixed; and there are those who say The comets' tresses nettled poor Altair, An aged orb that hasn't any hair. "The earth's the only one that isn't in The movement--I suppose because she's watched With horror and disgust how her fair skin Her pranking parasites have fouled and blotched With blood and grease in every labor riot, When seeing any purse or throat to fly at." TEMPORA MUTANTUR.